


Restless Nights (DreamNotFound)

by leoisnotalion



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Anxiety, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Multi, Racing thoughts, Recreational Drug Use, Slice of Life, Summer Vacation, Teen Romance, dream is a senior, dream is anxious about his senior year, dream is so lost, dream x george, dreamnotfound, he was a sk8r boy, karlnap, skater!dream, this is lowkey a vent about not knowing wtf is going on with life and growing up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:35:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28849920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leoisnotalion/pseuds/leoisnotalion
Summary: Dream is approaching his senior year of high school, but has "no fucking clue" what he wants to pursue as a career or if he even wants to go to college. He is kept up at night by his racing thoughts and is anxiety riddled despite always being a carefree person. He doesn't want to disappoint anyone, including himself. Skateboarding is one of his only outlets and he often sneaks out at night to clear his mind. As the summer comes to an end he wonders how he will deal with the lack of sleep from his constant restless nights. Nothing ever seems to calm his mind, even the short late-night skateboarding trips are only temporary fixes to his larger problem.That is, until, he meets someone who immediately catches his eye.And when he talks to this unfamiliar boy, he finally feels his mind settle, and he is in love with the feeling.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Karl Jacobs & Sapnap, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Karl Jacobs/Sapnap
Comments: 5
Kudos: 27





	1. Piercing Lungs

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first fanfiction and first time trying AO3 so I hope everything is right and all that good stuff. This fic started out honestly as a vent about my fears and anxieties about growing up (I relate to Dream SO much in this fic) but I've always wanted to write a DNF fic so I decided to just roll with it. I hope you enjoy it! This first chapter is pretty short but if people like this I will try to make the future ones longer :-).

Dream had always been a wild kid. He always loved to dance under the constant Florida showers that he knew would soon turn to sun. The wind would blow past his thick dirty blonde hair as he skateboarded down hills for hours on end. Cherished were the moments when his siblings accompanied him to the park and they would play countless games until the sun went down. Anyone who met him would describe him only as a happy and  _ carefree _ child. But, that changed quickly his senior year.

The moments of spontaneity and joy felt fleeting, all starting that summer before his last year. Dream had never particularly enjoyed school, there were some subjects he excelled in, like English and Computer Science, but otherwise, he was generally unmotivated. Plus, he had stopped taking ADHD medicine long before, hating the way he felt like a zombie floating through life, just so he could receive A’s instead of B’s. It never seemed worth it to him. Although, that could sometimes be hard for others to understand, it seemed. 

“Clay,” his mother had started some night last week, “don’t you think you should try taking meds again before school starts?” His mother deeply cared for him, and she had always hated seeing the shift in him when he would become almost robotic when taking meds. But, she was worried about how he could hold up in the coming months with all the stress.

“I really don’t want to,” he stared back, hoping she wouldn’t push further.

“I just am worried about how you’re going to focus on school and applying for college all on your own. I just want you to succeed.” Clay sighed, his need to please his mother killing all of his wants to prove her wrong that began to bubble inside of him. 

If he was honest, though, he had always seen college as a step in life that had a tentative red line drawn through it for him. Being asked the question “What do you want to do when you grow up?” puzzled him at any age, and even now when asked he would simply shrug and mumble about computer programming. Most adults just smiled, telling him he would make a good living. He would just nod, because the reality was he had no fucking clue. His racing thoughts started for the first time when he was laying in bed, after having taken his meds for almost a week, and taking his most recent pill far too late that morning. The effects had mostly worn off, he didn’t feel the suffocating sensation to constantly focus, but he was still wide awake. 

He rolled over to look at his phone, which laid quiet on his small mahogany side table. The blinding white light overtook his room as he pressed the power button, the time “2:47” staring back at him mockingly.

“Shit,” he muttered as he opened his phone and clicked down to his messages. He clicked to the most recent conversation and typed a message swiftly.

“You up?” it was simple, as most of their text conversations were. Both of them much preferred to talk over the phone or see each other in person. Dream held his breath hopefully, but once several silent minutes had passed he started to strip away his sheets and crawl out of bed.

“Fuck it,” he said aloud as his feet carried him to his closet at a pace that would be surprisingly rapid for anyone else at this time of night. 

He grabbed a light jacket, being so used to the sweltering heat that would beat down on him during the day that the thought of a slightly nighttime breeze gave him some shivers. He opened his bedroom door slowly, luckily he regularly remembered to put WD-40 on the hinges after almost getting caught sneaking out his sophomore year. Feet covered in dark grey socks carried him down the hall to the front door. After his phone flashlight illuminated the pile of shoes he finally found the canvas-colored converse he was looking for. The shoes slipped onto his feet quickly, being worn more times than he could recall. He slipped out the front door and into the humid summer night air. A longboard adorned with translucent lime green wheels greeted him, laying directly next to the door. His hands reached down and grabbed the board, his feet quickly leading him away to the street. 

Clay reached into his back pocket, checking his phone a final time before setting off. Still, no text from Nick, which he had known was the outcome likely to happen when he drafted his text anyway. His feet moved familiarly, he had done this a million times and he never got tired of it. The warm embrace of the wind and slight whir of the wheels against the pavement met him gracefully in the silence of the night. A light hum left his lips as he looked around and took in the scene around him. The cicadas chirped, becoming nature’s music in place of the customary voices and cars that would fill the street in the day time. 

There was nothing he loved more. Especially after racing thoughts plagued his mind for hours on end, filling him up with what-if questions so intensely that he wanted to explode. Letting his jacket flow freely behind him, his arms out, he wanted to scream away all his frustrations. Instead, he just laughed. Dream watched as houses passed by him even quicker as he flew quickly down the hill, his head still lolling back with every giggle escaping his lips. In moments like this, he felt like he was the only person alive, like nothing else mattered. He treasured the feeling of no pressure, where he could just let the wind blow through his hair, let the air pierce his lungs, and not have to worry about college or school or medications. He decided in that moment that he would stop taking his meds, no matter how hard he tried for his mother he knew it wasn’t working. Clay hated anything complicated and he knew that’s all the meds were doing, and he was absolutely miserable. He felt good being so sure about something for what seemed like the first time in months. As he scanned his eyes over the darkness of the night he wondered if anyone else was awake, tossing and turning in their bead. 

‘Probably not,’ he thought as the board turned with ease around the corner and led him into darkness. 


	2. Sweaty Sheets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George tries to fall asleep but finds it hard while adjusting to the heat of his new Florida home.

George had always liked the cold, because if he felt the breeze nip at his skin he could put on a sweater. He liked the rain as well, in moderation of course. Those were some of the only things he missed about Britain. Admittedly, when his father first came home elated about his promotion, George had acted quite selfishly. His father was to be moved to a much larger branch of the company he worked for in Orlando, Florida. Before he could even get through all of the benefits, George had already blurted out his many opinions.

“What?” he recalled starting, just a few months ago now. George had said many things he was not proud of that day, and as time went on the air between himself and his father cleared, after some mumbled apologies. Their relationship had never been bad, just sometimes awkward. His father tried the best he could to relate and be there for George, but often fell short. In reality, he often coddled George, buying him gifts and always being nice. Sterness always came from his mother, who, at first, silently agreed with her son, until she heard about all the benefits. George’s adoration for his mother was evident, she was strong but sweet, disciplinary but understanding. Their conversations after the initial news also helped George to change his mind. 

_ “We’re moving, but we’ve always lived here!” he had said. _

_ “Change is good, Georgie. Do you really feel like this is the best place in the world to live?” his mother had told him afterward. _

_ “Well,” he said as he walked around his blue themed bedroom, watching the rain against the window. “That’s an odd question.” She had waited patiently for him to continue. _

_ “I guess not. I don’t know for sure.” _

_ “So, we’re going to try someplace new.” _

He had started to accept the idea for the first time after that conversation. Most of his various other concerns had sorted themselves out over time, or he realized he was being slightly ridiculous. 

_ “You know, there’s rain in Florida, Georgie,” his mom had reminded him after he looked longingly through their front window at the storm. _

George’s biggest concern was leaving everyone behind, his friends, until he realized none of that really mattered. To put in bluntly, George didn’t ever really have friends. He was never popular by any means, usually making small talk with kids in his school only about classes or occasionally about video games that they shared an interest in. Reading was George’s primary interest though, something that had always set him apart from kids his age. This was even more apparent when you saw his massive bookshelf that, of course, he had begged and pleaded to bring with him to America. 

During the move, after going through his bookshelf for a whole day and separating the books he no longer wanted and barely making a dent, his parents realized they would have to give in. 

Reading was George’s outlet, he could imagine he was in a different world, alongside the characters who were time travelers, or fighting dragons, or flying around on broomsticks playing quidditch. Harry Potter was his favorite, shown by his various banners strung about his room and his Ravenclaw apparel jumping out to greet you wherever possible. George was glad he was a Ravenclaw, since the house colors were his favorite, and frankly, some of the only colors he could see. Plus, it all matched nicely with his blue room. 

Sometimes, when he was reading, he could also enjoy the romance of being in danger and being saved by a knight and shining armor, or a prince. George had known for many years that he was gay, an unspoken truth that he knew set him apart. He hadn’t told anyone, not that he was ashamed or scared, it just seemed like something that didn’t need to be emphasized. His parents, his mother especially, had told him since the beginning of time that he was always accepted by them. Which made him think that they knew at least somewhat, and they had never batted an eye when he would pick a new book to read that would lead other parents to suspicion. They simply didn’t care, and his dad was always willing to give him a weekly allowance to encourage his reading habit. His parents figured it was better than him watching TV, or doing something unproductive with his life. 

As he got more comfortable with the idea of moving, George started to actually become more excited. Packing his boxes followed with more smiles instead of sighs and huffs. This was amplified when he saw the pictures of the house.

“Damn,” he had said on instinct while both of his parents chuckled. His dad’s pay raise was significant, to say the least, and the house looked like a mansion compared to their small London flat. He was most excited for the bay window in his room that faced the street, which he immediately rushed to when they finally arrived to the house. He had fallen in love with everything in Orlando even more over the past three weeks they had been there. He liked how in the morning he could sip his tea and read a book by the window, and at night it gave him ample access to the roof, where he could lay down and watch the stars. He had only visited the beach once, late in the evening the day after they had arrived, just wearing his clothes out, having to roll up his jean cuffs high on his shins as to not get them wet.

His first time at the beach was magical, the sun almost completely set over the horizon, which he knew was likely beautiful, although it all blended into one shade of yellow through his eyes. The water was still warm from the sun, washing over his toes which writhed and sunk deeper into the sand as the crisp waves washed over them. Eventually, he and his mother had started chasing each other as the waves crashed and George gave up on keeping his jeans dry, watching as water splashed all over him as his feet pounded quickly into the water.

George decided that night that he loved everything about Florida.

But now, he was regretting that decision. The sweat stuck to George’s body, mingling with the thin sheet that covered him. He audibly groaned as he tossed over for the millionth time that night.

‘This is unbearable,” he sighed. That was the only thing he could bring himself to hate about the newfound place, the heat. He was utterly oblivious to how hot it really got, learning from his previous doubts about two weeks earlier. He had gone out to a nearby park to walk the family dog, Dobby, which George had the pleasure of naming many years ago. After only being out for about two hours, he returned home absolutely fried from the sun. The white tank top he wore did little to protect his sensitive skin from the outing. His mother instantly noticed when he walked through the door.

_ “George! You’re so red, my god!” his mother had looked at him, filled with worry. _

George didn’t notice until he looked in the mirror, his skin visibly darker than usual. He started to feel the effects only about thirty minutes later, exhausted and drained from all the exposure. His mother was worried about him getting sick but, after a couple of hours, any sign of that passed. He was confined to bed for two whole days, regularly drinking water and slathering aloe all over the burns. The way his skin would rub against everything could be so painful, and he hated it. His skin was practically all healed now except for some sensitivity where he was exposed the most. 

The sheet covering George was promptly ripped away, his legs swinging over the side of the bed. The heat was obviously not as much of a bother to his parents, who he had heard go to bed at a reasonable time and were both still fast asleep. George reached for the book resting on his desk and climbed over to the window. He sat at the plush seat and leaned against one of his Ravenclaw printed pillows, his feet resting against the second one across from him. He opened the window and watched the stars for a moment, letting the silence of the night fill him with an eerie but enjoyable feeling. A sigh escaped his chapped lips, him knowing that he shouldn’t be up this late. Every other day George was having to do some school work for a few hours, so that way he could make up some of his differentiating high school credits. He would have to take school for an extra year if he didn’t, so he and his parents agreed that taking a few filler classes over the summer was the best compromise. George didn’t mind, the work was quite easy and he enjoyed learning.

George hoped that the seemingly cooler air now coming in from outside would help to soon lull him to sleep. He looked down at the book in his hand, examining the cover before opening it to where his bookmark was laying, a gold one that was brandished with small blue feathers on the end. The book, titled, Carry On, had been one that he had picked up from the library the other day. George had never seen a library so big when he decided to go investigate what “an American library” would be like, as he told his mom.

“I’m sure just like a British one, Georgie!” she had chuckled. But she was wrong, he had never seen a library so big or well designed. As soon as he walked in he knew it was his new favorite place in all the city. The nice librarian had recommended the book after he applied for a card and told her some of his interests.

He was pleasantly surprised after discovering it was a fantasy, practically like a gay version of Harry Potter. He immediately fell in love and knew he would have to purchase a copy for his library at some point, as well. As his eyes gravitated towards the page, illuminated by the moonlight and the faint streetlight that stood by George’s house, he imagined what it would be like to be a wizard and meet a handsome and charming guy who would use his powers for big romantic gestures. George smiled to himself at the thought, knowing finding a wizard boyfriend would be impossible. However, he was hopeful that he could maybe meet a nice American boy, and finally have his first kiss when school started in about 3 weeks. Until then, George deemed it was probably too hard to meet kids his age, at least in a way that wasn’t awkward. 

His thoughts were pulled away when he heard a rolling sound outside, one that probably wasn’t loud enough to wake those who were sleeping, but could be easily detected in the silence by those who were awake. George would be surprised if anyone else was anyways, because it seemed like the whole world was enveloped in the rest the humid night was providing. His interest was peaked as he located the sound of the rolling, a figure gliding under the streetlight. George let his vision focus so he could see better due to the difference in light. He realized that the figure looked to be a boy, probably about his age, on a skateboard. The sound was unfamiliar to him before because no one really skated in London, not that he knew of, most of the kids at his school were out drinking or playing sports or random other things like that, George guessed. The thought of a skater boyfriend brought a smile to George’s face, a boy who was slightly edgy but still sweet. He would hold George’s hands while he guided him along, helping the fragile boy skate for the first time. 

He watched the boy skate around the corner effortlessly, disappearing from George’s sight. The book was placed back down as George got up, pulling the baggy sleeping shirt close to his small frame. The room had finally cooled down enough and George climbed under the covers to try to fall asleep again.

‘I want to go to the library tomorrow,’ he thought before his thoughts drifted elsewhere. He thought once again of the skater boyfriend he had started fantasizing about, taking him away to a dream-filled sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi !!  
> Thank you for all the support so far with this book. For now, I don't have a consistent chapter schedule because of how busy I am, but I am aiming to update about once a week. This book has helped me to realize my passion for writing is still there, so that is exciting. The chapters will hopefully be getting longer as time goes on, I prefer to not write large time skips in a chapter, but let me know if you guys would like that and want longer chapters with those skips!
> 
> Have a good day!  
> \- Leo :D


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